


Suits You

by AmTheDreamer



Series: Firsts [3]
Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmTheDreamer/pseuds/AmTheDreamer
Summary: He has a lot he wants to say, but soon enough he is not able to say anything at all. His hands travel on her body, as he studies each and every spot on her. His tongue moves from her lips to her neck, and he kisses and licks and traces every freckle. OR it's the first time Donna wears Harvey's shirt, and he loves it.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Series: Firsts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747618
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Suits You

Harvey loves her sleepwear. He loves the feel of the smooth satin when she snuggles into him as they watch a movie. He loves the soft cotton of her shorts as she brushes a leg against him when she crawls into bed. He loves the flow of her jumpsuit as she dances around in the kitchen, making coffee.

In fact, Harvey loves her sleepwear the best when he gets o strip her from it. The contrast between dark fabrics, and light skin, smooth fabrics, and freckled skin, it makes shiver with excitement.

On their first night together, after spending the night in each other's arms, when he gets out of bed she is already back in her clothes from the night before. He looks at her in admiration as the cardigan she wears moves back and forth with her every move.

After a few nights at her place, he finally gathers the courage to ask her to come to spend the night at his place. And when she appears that night with a duffel bag full of stuff, he is in shock. She pulls out soaps, and creams, socks and shoes, and a _beautiful_ dress she hangs carefully in his closet until it is time to wear it the next day. And then she pulls a set of shorts and camisole, beautiful and black, and he swallows hard.

He loves that he gets to watch as she steps out of _his_ bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel. He watches as she dresses in that sleepwear, and he really cannot wait to take it off again. His eyes shine with lust as he follows every move she makes, and when she is finally done, he turns her around and pulls her into a deep kiss.

“Hot,” he mumbles, as his hands travel from her waist to her shoulder slowly.

“Watch it,” she says through a smile, and she tears herself from his hands and lips and takes a step back. There is a smirk on her face and he knows she has something on her mind, but he decides to go with her teasing, watching her walk to the kitchen, her body swaying slightly.

It is days later when they finally fall into a comfortable routine. And suddenly her carefully-matched sets of satin camisoles and pants, of jumpsuits and cardigans, give their place to tops and panties. She’s walking around the house with her old drama club t-shirt, not even bothering to put on her shorts. The summer is hot and their bodies radiate heat, and she sleeps like that, curled into him.

He is losing his shirts in the process as well, sleeping in nothing but his boxers. It gives more space for her body to touch his, and he loves it, Loves waking up to the soft skin of her leg as it curls between his. Loves seeing her freckled thighs. Loves her.

He is completely unprepared when he shows up at her place one night after nine. She went home two hours before him, and he suspects that he will find her curled with a book, dinner on the table, waiting for him to join her.

He turns her key in the lock, walks in slowly. He discards his jacket and shows, putting the key and his cellphone on the dresser by the door. And then he sees her.

She is seated on the couch. Her knees are bent; her legs are bare. And she is wearing his old baseball shirt. The shirt he left there a couple of weeks back so he had something to sleep in, if the other shirt was in need of laundry.

His face goes from shock, to lust, to need, to smirk, as he registers what is in front of him.

“Suits you,” he says, and she finally looks up at him. He knows she heard him walk in, and her smirk confirms to him that she knows exactly what she is doing.

“What, this old thing?” she asks, as she drops the book and the couch. She walks slowly to him as he walks to her, and the gap between them is gone when their lips touch.

He has a lot he wants to say, but soon enough he is not able to say anything at all. His hands travel on her body, as he studies each and every spot on her. His tongue moves from her lips to her neck, and he kisses and licks and traces every freckle.

When he finds the spot that sends shivers to her knees, she moans and tightens her grip on him, trying to stay stood on her unstable feet.

“You know,” he says through kisses, and the bass sends shivers down her throat, “if you are wearing my shirt, what exactly am I expected to wear?”

“Well,” she whispers in his ear, “who says any of us has to wear anything?”


End file.
